kissing sis

in which I'm a sentimental schmuck and a freak all at once.

sometimes when I'm playing with the kittens and they're all hyped up on adrenaline and running around out of their minds, I get this warm little glow and imagine how fast their little hearts must be beating.

only, I'm in a unique position to actually be able to *picture* their little hearts. I kind of love cat hearts. they're the perfect size of small and somehow, they're *adorable*. yes, I'm referring to the actual bloody organ. it's *adorable*.

I'm such a freak, dude. my affection for them is inextricably linked with a mental image of their tiny hearts nestled between their lungs, wrapped up in mediastinum.

yeah, I didn't stop being a medical geek the day I dropped out of vet school. it's just, you know, a hobby now instead of a vocation :)
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it all makes so much SENSE now.

so we watched this video today on the development of anesthetics.

now I have always wondered WHY we persist with this system that keeps med students awake and making life or death decisions for days on end with no sleep. I mean, we now KNOW that sleep deprivation is pretty much the same, physiologically, as drug use, and you can lose your license for that. I only wonder about it more when I talk to my friends who are going into human medicine and they say things like, I nodded off 3 times today when I was assisting in surgery.

O_o

I'm never going to a teaching hospital again.

so here's the thing that links the two. and I am a little surprised that I didn't connect these dots earlier, because I knew all this.

Cocaine was a very common anesthetic/analgesic in the early days. we really didn't have any anesthetics before the 1840s, and after we moved past knocking people out with ether and chloroform to wanting to do local or regional anesthetic, cocaine was the active ingredient of choice.

and you know, with the advent of injectibles, doctors discovered that if they mainlined coke, they could stay awake for days on end. it was FABULOUS. they could get SO MUCH DONE. and they felt like god. as you do.

the birth of the modern *scientific* medical profession...when med schools were being developed and the institution as we know it was being created, originated at a time when all doctors were high on coke.

*FACEPALM*

Dear AMA. my doctors are not legally allowed to be on cocaine now, so plz to be changing your expectations. I prefer my brain surgeons well-rested.
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(no subject)

I just got back last night from a week-long jaunt in NC. I went out for a wedding and extended the stay to see everyone I hadn't seen in a few years. I had a wonnnnderful time. I should actually make a post about the trip at some point because god knows my brain is like swiss cheese and if I don't note it down here, I'll forget it ever happened. but first:

I'm apparently exceedingly lucky my cat didn't kill himself out of boredom while I was gone. I knew Seeley was Speshul, I just apparently wasn't aware how much so.

I passed out pretty much as soon as I got home last night, on the couch. after twelve hours of driving and flying, I didn't even make it up to bed. at one in the morning, I woke up to what sounded like a freight train going through my apartment. discovering that your chubby cat has shoved himself somehow, for some reason, through the handle-hole of a plastic grocery bag he found god-knows-where and is now stuck, panicking, and in pain, streaking through the apartment, bag rustling madly behind him, as he trips and falls down the stairs?

that'll wake you up *and* put hair on your chest.

he was gone again before I was even fully conscious, up the stairs and somewhere dark and safe. I eventually found him in my closet. also? he shat himself in fear. also? he scared the holy hell out of irving, who was running around like a headless chicken in sympathy. so first I had to discern that there was nothing actually wrong with *him*.

jesus. h. christ.

I'm really lucky that despite my cats' feral origins, they won't actually strike out at humans, even when they're really freaked. I was able to hold him down and rip the plastic with my hands while he growled and hissed but held perfectly still.

gah. good kitty. dumb kitty. *flail*
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I'm college educated.

so I'm on my way up to work to get some stuff done before my boss returns from vacation tomorrow, and I hear this local radio ad. for a furniture sale. and I'm confused, because the ad opens with:

"Hello, I'm Warren Buffet."

and when I *realize* it's a local furniture store ad, I'm all confused. I'm all, when did Warren Buffet start doing radio spokesmanship? and, damn, that must be a good sale, because Warren Buffet is a tight-fisted sonuvabitch. and also, he doesn't sound as old as the hills like I'd expected. (if I ever, you know, sat around and thought about what Warren Buffet might sound like).

and that's when I realized. it's *a* Warren Buffet.

not THE Warren Buffet.

*facepalm*

god, man, I'm dense. because yes, Warren Buffet needed the extra cash from celebrity product plugs. he blew his billions already on hookers and cocaine.
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so, here's a fun fact about me

I apparently really am happiest when I'm closing myself into a small space with something that might kill me, every day. this time it's ostriches. and the occasional 12-point buck. there's also a llama, but the worst Jethro's gonna do is spit on me, so. I think I can survive that.

which is to say I'm supplementing my comfy paying lab/office job by working slave labor out at the Wildlife We Can Farm center.

by the end of June, I'll be feeding baby deer. I suppose they can't kill me, except WITH THE CUTENESS.

somehow building pharmacology websites just wasn't giving me the same adrenaline rush, haha. (building websites, you say? aren't you the wrong Bilgic for that job? yes. yes, I am). life will get slightly more exciting once the actual research projects she's involved in get off the ground. then I'll be making friends with Buttons-the-celibate-oreo-munching-boar (I know, I know, it's always about sex with me. but this time, I will not be touching him inappropriately, I promise), and manhandling fluffy yellow chicks that are infected with E coli and Campylobacter.

so I suppose *they* could kill me, if I licked them.



I know you wish you were me. you're soooooo jealous. the life I live, it's glamorous.
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it's official

summer is here. the other thing that's official is that 4 years in NC and one year in Mass. were enough to turn me into a total and complete pussy. I got home with my groceries and I thought about crawling inside the fridge.

the worst part is, I *know* in my heart of Texan hearts that it's not even hot yet. last year was ironically easier because I was working *outside*. the heat snuck up on me, whereas now I step outside the office and get clobbered with it.

oh, also. hi! see, I didn't lose my password to this thing. ha.
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republicans, prove me wrong

it's way to early to tell yet, but if I could get John McCain in the white house and a democratic congress (with a real majority, not the skin of our teeth), I would be a happy, happy girl.

course, the congress part's wishful thinking, considering they've pissed off their base. I wish we would grow a pair. seriously.

also, hi! haha. long time no see. I started school yesterday. guess who's good at school again? \o/
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you know you've had a good day climbing when

shampooing is painful. my arms hurt so goddamn bad.

Angie, I've found the motherload. I swear to god it's the same kind of crowd and atmosphere we had in nola. exactly.the.same. and they're all so pretty. bethany was like, I shouldn't stare, and I was like, it's perfectly fine. stare. hee! it makes me miss you.